60

60
I dwelled on how I was going to approach her that morning. At the lumber mill, I stood across the desk from the receptionist and sifted through the mail, barely registering what I held in my hands. Bills, bank statements, fliers, half of it was garbage addressed to my name. A paper copy of an invoice from a couple weeks ago. An invitation to a lumber expo in another state. I pondered if I would even be alive to make it.

“Is everything alright, Mr. March?”

My eyes flitted up to the receptionist, with her brown hair twisted into a bun high on her head and her polite, meddlesome smile that faltered when we made eye contact.

“You look tired,” she ventured cautiously. “Is it the attacks in Grandbay? That’s been wearing on a lot of us here.”

The humans barely knew what had transpired. According to the news, the attack was a gang-related random hazing, and the Mundy house was their unfortunate target. The Mythguard had spun it to make it believable that certain gang activity would target the low-profile communities of small towns, which unsettled humans and discouraged them from risking exposure in the weeks following. It made people stay inside and keep to themselves. Nobody wanted to get caught in the middle of another attack like that, randomly targeted for no reason, with no chance of appeal.

“Yes,” I replied finally, turning my eyes back to the mail. “I know the Mundys. It’s very unfortunate what happened to them.”

My receptionist peered at me before realization made her eyes go wide. “Aislin Mundy was the girl you brought in here that one time. Is she involved?”

“Yes, she is.”

“Oh. Mr. March, I’m so sorry.”

I frowned and handed the garbage envelopes to her. “You can shred these. I’ll be here in my office for the next few hours if you need anything.”

Taking the envelopes, the receptionist seemed to sense my distaste for discussing Aislin. She didn’t question any further, just nodded and withdrew while I walked past her.

Usually, the dusty smell of the lumber mill was a comfort to me. After the confusing, even bewildering affairs of the shifters unfolded, I was always left with the lumber mill as an escape from pack business. It was so much more straightforward here. My clients only cared about money, products, expedient shipping. I could handle that. But the complexities of shifter hierarchies, deaths and disappearances, moral quandaries carried by the Mythguard—those were the issues that bogged me down. I hoped that by sitting in my office sorting through paperwork, I could take my mind off everything, but it didn’t work.

Muriel’s fate troubled me, and the mystery surrounding David and Lothair’s whereabouts robbed me of my ability to concentrate. I feared that they would be hiding around every corner, waiting to ambush me at any moment.

With my mood souring by the minute, I left the lumber mill early and went back home. Some of my packmates were still taking refuge in my living room and spare bedrooms. It was a relief to see them and not feel so alone, but that feeling only lasted a few seconds before I remembered the great weight of David’s threats. I secluded myself in my home office, and even there I was unsettled.

I wished I still had Taylor with me. That moment, I missed his company more than anything. Waves of guilt crashed over me any time I thought of my Beta. Nobody would ever be as good a friend to me as he had been. But eventually, I was drawn back to the conversation I had with Aislin last night about merging with Grandbay, and I wondered if there was a chance I could forge something with Gavin.

Not that he would ever become my Beta. I didn’t think he would tolerate the idea. But maybe friendship was something we both needed.

I called him and was surprised to hear him answer. “Gavin,” I greeted.

“What is it?” The unease in his voice made me realize he must have been expecting more bad news.

“I just wanted to check in,” I said. “How is everyone in Grandbay?”

He sighed. “We’ve been better. Are you looking to hear about Aislin?”

“She’s been on my mind, but that wasn’t explicitly why I called.”

“I heard about your argument.”

My skin prickled, but I should have expected Aislin to divulge everything to Gavin. “What did she tell you?”

“About her idea to merge our packs. And that you don’t want her to stay in Grandbay.”

My guilt worsened. “I didn’t mean to lose my temper with her, Gavin. I just didn’t know how to process it when she said she might not stay here.”

“Would you force her to stay in Eastpeak?”

“No. Of course not. I understand how important her family is to her, especially after Oslo…”

Gavin interrupted me. “She’s gone through a lot. Unless you’re going to apologize, maybe you should just give her space.”

“I want to apologize. You have no idea how much Aislin means to me.”

The Grandbay Alpha growled lowly. “Really? I think I have some idea. Aislin’s been my best friend my entire life.”

“Well, yes. I get that. But she’s also been helping me see people differently. She’s changed the way I want to treat people, and without her, I don’t think I can continue moving forward with positive progress. She’s critical to my improvement as an Alpha.”

Gavin scoffed. “You talk about her like she’s just some commodity.”

“I care for her, Gavin.”

“Sorry. I just find that hard to believe when you say everything in a deadpan.”

“What do you want, then?” I let annoyance tinge my voice this time, since that was what Gavin seemed to want to hear. “Do you need to hear me get angry? Do you expect me to plead for her to talk to me?”

“It would be nice to hear you sound a little human, for once.”

I couldn’t help but snarl. “Ten of my packmates have died within the last couple weeks, Gavin, and you’re telling me I need to sound more human? I have been grieving them. Keeping the survivors in my home to protect them. I dropped everything to come aid you when that anonymous caller warned about the attack. I cried for my packmates, Gavin! What the fuck else do I have to do to seem more human to you?”

My outburst left Gavin quiet. I listened to his breathing on the other line, both of us succumbing to a whirlwind of thoughts inspired by the other, until finally Gavin broke the silence. “You cried?”

Was that really what he narrowed in on? “Yes, Gavin. I did. Ask Ais.”